


Culture for the Masses

by unbelievable2



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Gen, LJ 20 minute challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbelievable2/pseuds/unbelievable2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle shook his head in resignation.</p>
<p>“Bloody philistine, you are. I don’t know why I bother trying to educate you in the finer points of art...."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Culture for the Masses

**Author's Note:**

> Tiny, little ficlet written for the fun 20 Minute Challenge on LJ "Tea and Swiss Roll" comm. The prompts were "laundry" and this pic:  
> [](http://s296.photobucket.com/user/riverhouse9/media/Looks/213619_600_zps8lx05zoq.png.html)

“Dirty old man,” opined Bodie, after several moments staring at the sculpture.

“Eh? Keep your voice down, you prat! What do you mean?”

Bodie jerked his head at the statue.

“Well, look at it! All right, it’s got the classical symbolism you keep going on about, I suppose, but really, it’s just an old geezer playing around with a naked child. That’s pretty perverted in my book.”

Doyle gave a theatrically exasperated sigh. 

“The old geezer’s got wings, hasn’t he? So he must be a holy person. Of some type.... can’t see a label, but yeah, some hermit or something, I expect. So stands to reason…”

“What, that he wouldn’t be a pervert? All that time in the wilderness? Come off it!”

Doyle gave his partner a sideways look of annoyance, and caught the twinkle in the eyes.

“You bastard, stop winding me up!”

“Ah, come on, Ray, don’t deny me my little pleasures! A real treat, it is, to see you get so annoyed about daft stuff. But honestly, this sort of thing does nothing for me.” He cast an arm around him, indicating the gallery. “I don’t care whether it’s renaissance treasures or no, all I can think about is they must have been bloody cold most of the time, though I suppose it saved on laundry bills. Not to mention chancing their luck going out to kill ravening monsters without even a pair of Y-fronts on. It’s a wonder any of the old heroes kept the family jewels intact. Just as well they were mostly immortal!”

Doyle shook his head in resignation.

“Bloody philistine, you are. I don’t know why I bother trying to educate you in the finer points of art. Waste of my valuable time, it is. Come on, I suppose you want feeding now, do you?”

He turned on his heel, his rubber soles squeaking the stone floor of the silent gallery, and started to stride towards the exit; then stopped, realising he was no longer accompanied. He swung round to see Bodie stock still, staring at a smaller statue that had been almost obscured, located as it was behind the bigger exhibits. It was about three feet high – of a young man, naked, his hands relaxed by his side, his blank eyes staring out at a lost world.

Doyle frowned and walked back towards his partner; cautiously, because he expected a further wind-up. But he saw that Bodie’s expression was rapt.

“Actually found something you like, then?”

Bodie turned his head slowly towards his partner, as if his eyes were loathe to leave the sculpture. 

“Look! he said. “It’s just like you, only few years ago, when your hair was a bit shorter.”

“Don’t be bloody daft,” muttered Doyle, but intrigued by the statue nonetheless. He could see what Bodie meant…

“Lovely, that is,” said Bodie, with a wink, and he reached out to pat a marble buttock.

The alarm bells were deafening.


End file.
